


Farmer and His Gun

by garconrouge



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Strangers to Lovers, Underage Drinking, none onscreen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28263879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garconrouge/pseuds/garconrouge
Summary: Dean Winchester's sophomore year of college is going to be awesome. His band are finally getting serious, he scored a fake ID, and now Sam is a little older he can bring him up to visit more often. There is not a single thing that is going to stop him from having the best year of his life.Or at least that was the plan before he met Castiel, the British exchange student with an American accent and alotof weed.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 4





	Farmer and His Gun

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I'd be posting a Destiel fic to this account, but here we are! 
> 
> Quick warning: this story is going to have quite a few references to and conversation about the abuse Dean endured growing up, but there will be **none onscreen.** All the abuse referenced happened in the past, and Dean does not live with John any more. There _will_ be a lot of drug use though (only weed), so keep that in mind.
> 
> The title of this fic is from [Farmer and his Gun by Charlie Simpson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmITyvhq5xM&ab_channel=CharlieSimpson), and the quote at the beginning of the first chapter is from [Peach by The Front Bottoms](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSLGNwGynUs)

* * *

**_“You say I'm going to miss you when you leave…_ **

**_and you are probably right.”_ **

* * *

**Thursday, August 26th**

**267 days left**

“It must be so exciting, getting to see all over the world like that,” the brunette sighed, one hand stroking up and down his arm, finger curled and tracing lazy circles on his sleeve, “and to use your spare time to help other people get as fit as you- it’s _heroic_.” Her hair fell into her eyes and she bit her lip, looking up at Dean through her eyelashes. He was moving in for the kill, one hand snaked around her hip and the other coming to rest on the back of her neck. Their lips were a hair’s breadth apart when something heavy hit his stomach, and he sat up with a jolt.

“Dean, how are we ever supposed to get any practice in if you spend the whole time napping?” It’s Jo standing over him, arms crossed and a stern expression on her face. 

“ _Yucudpratisyursons_ ” Dean mumbled, still half-conscious, head full of the fuzzy confusion that comes with interrupted sleep. 

“My songs still have lead guitar in them, dumbass,” Jo retorts. Through his bleary eyes Dean can see Benny, their band’s rhythm guitarist, and Ash, their drummer, looking at each other in confusion. He must have been mumbling too much for them to understand him. He’d known Jo for so many years that she could interpret him deaf and blind, but to everyone else, Dean’s garbled syllables were a mystery. 

With an exaggerated huff and a roll of his eyes, Dean sat up and grabbed the electric guitar he’d rested against the sofa what he swears was two minutes ago. There was no way he’d been sleeping as long as the irritated looks Jo was shooting him claimed. He’d laid down on the sofa to rest his eyes while Ash and Benny argued over whether or not Ash kept speeding up during one of their new songs, and hadn’t even known he’d drifted off until he was rudely awoken.

“So what are we running through?” Dean asked, leafing through the loose notes he’d left on the old coffee table in Ash’s garage. Last year, they’d simply been a cover band, playing for fun instead of actually trying to get anywhere. Dean and Jo had got to writing over the summer though, and with that came the decision to actually try this music crap for real. 

“Now you’re awake, how ‘bout _Left You Behind_ ? I still aint got that down perfect yet,” Benny requested. The others nodded, so Dean found the lyric sheet and gave a nod of his own, pulling his guitar over his shoulder as Ash clicked his drumsticks together. He’d written _Left You Behind_ near the beginning of their first semester, and he remembered the night well. He’d been at a freshman party, getting drunk and having the time of his life now that he was finally free, when the image of his stubborn, gangly fourteen year old brother refused to leave his mind. He’d immediately opened his phone notes and written down everything he was thinking, with Jo helping him to adapt it into a song later on. 

They started to play, and Dean felt the emotion of the song well up inside of him the moment he and Ash started playing in unison. Anger and guilt in one solid punch to his gut. _It’s what makes that song so incredible_ , Jo told him once. _That kind of raw emotion is hard to find, near impossible to fake._ He started singing his lyrics on cue, and he couldn’t say that she was wrong;

_“Does he still yell_

_Like he always has?_

_Promise me you’ll tell me_

_If he ever kicks your ass_

_I wanted to protect you_

_But I couldn’t stay so trapped, confined_

_Sick of being beaten black and blue_

_I’m so sorry that I left you behind”_

They ran through the song over and over again until Benny finally exclaimed that he’d ‘got’ it, which made Dean and Jo roll their eyes. As much as they loved Benny as a friend, his guitar skills definitely needed improving. There was a good reason he was only rhythm guitar. 

“And that is _it_ for today, people!” Ash called as an alarm started to ring on his phone. Ash was a comp sci major, and also part of the university’s Robotics organization. Unluckily for the rest of the band, their first meeting just happened to cut their practice time short by an hour. Ash had apologised profusely when it was announced, and they’d all agreed to re-organize their practice time if the meetings continued to be in the way. 

They all started to pack up, and Dean caught Jo’s eyes across the room as he shoved his lyrics back into his backpack.

“We still meeting Charlie at the Buzz?” he asked, pulling his guitar into the case. He hadn’t seen Charlie Bradbury since the end of freshman year, when she’d bid the two of them goodbye to go travelling with her girlfriend.

“You bet,” Jo shot back, bass already slung across her back. It was a beautiful instrument, a red Fender Vintera ‘60s Mustang, and despite the fact that he only played guitar, Dean had always eyed it with envy. Jo had spent the whole summer between high school and college working at her mom’s bar to save up enough money to buy it, and he’d even chipped in fifty bucks himself for a late birthday present. They’d both ignored the fact that he’d already given her an on-time birthday present that year. It had been the least he could do to thank her- she’d convinced her mom to let him sleep on their sofa, after his dad kicked him out again. Ellen had gone a step further and given him a job at the bar to save for college. He owed a lot to the two of them. 

“Oh,” Jo added, as if she’d forgotten until this moment, “don’t mention Ella. To Charlie.”

“They broke up?” Dean asked, a wince in his voice. Charlie had seemed super in to Ella, the last time he’d seen them. If they’d broken up, she likely wasn’t taking it too well. Jo nodded, her face matching Dean’s voice. “Oh god,” he continued, “She’s gonna want a _Lord of the Rings_ marathon. Not that I’m opposed, but if she cries I’m gonna mess it up, man. I’m not good with crying girls.”

“You think I’m any better?” Jo laughs, and Dean nods in affirmation. They both suck at being comforting.

The Buzz isn’t too far from Ash’s house, so they meet Charlie pretty quickly. She’s already there, sitting at a table and taking up the extra chairs with her feet and her messenger bag. 

“Aw, my favourite people have arrived!” she cheered, her arms going into the air as she moved to hug them both. Thankfully, for Dean’s sake, she didn’t seem too cut up about her break up. He still made a mental note to never bring up Ella, though. He even underlined it. 

“How was your summer?” Charlie asked, and Jo answered for the both of them automatically, as she had done every time that question had been asked for the past five years. 

“It was good,” she said, “I made a ton of tips, got a lot of practice hours in, and Dean didn’t burn the bar down, so my mom was pretty happy. Sam came to visit a lot, of course, which is always great!”

“Aw, how is he?” Charlie cooed, making a face that showed just how cute she found Dean’s younger brother. The three of them sat down at Charlie’s table, Dean moving her bag to take its seat.

“Tall as fuck now,” Dean laughed. Sam had always been tall for his age, but this past year he’d had a growth spurt that saw him shoot past all of them, including Dean. His little brother wasn’t so little any more, now nearing sixteen. He hadn’t heard the end of it- even Ellen had joked about his height, asking what John had been feeding him before she could think to stop herself. 

Dean moved in to the Harvelle’s near the end of high school, when his father kicked him out for the last time. He’d hidden his college applications for as long as he could, but eventually it had been time to tell his dad about his plans. He wasn’t even going far- the University of Kansas is only a half hour drive away from Topeka, where they’d moved after their mom’s death. He’d applied there on purpose, with the hope that John wouldn’t be too angry if Dean wasn’t really leaving. But of course, it wasn’t really college he cared about- it was losing that control over Dean. For John, it was all or nothing- he had a son who lived under his thumb, or he didn’t have a son at all. 

Dean only wished he could have taken Sam with him. He still sees him- Topeka is so close he can pick the kid up whenever he wanted, and Sam could always get a Greyhound if he could scrounge up the money. They were practically neighbours. 

“How was your summer, Charlie?” Dean asked, needing to stop his own thoughts about his fucked-up family for a minute, and not wanting to seem rude. He wanted to kick himself immediately after though, when a weird look fell over Charlie’s face, and she waved a hand through the air.

“You don’t wanna hear about my boring summer,” she dismissed, “there’s much more interesting shit to shoot. Like, did you know that there’s a British exchange student this year? I heard some girls talking about it in the student office.”

“That’s my kinda news,” Dean cheered, shifting forward in his seat. “You think she’s hot?”

“I’m going for hot _and_ a lesbian,” Charlie countered, mimicking Dean’s posture. They were staring each other dead in the eye, competition blazing.

“How do you guys know she’s even a she?” Jo asked, amused.

“Joanna Beth, are you trying to ruin my dreams of a hot sophomore year romance? _Really_?” 

“Okay so hot,” Dean said, pointing to himself, “hot lesbian,” to Charlie, “and dude,” to Jo. “How much we betting on this? I could go for twenty bucks.”

“Twenty bucks it is,” Jo agreed. It’s a habit they’d fallen into quickly in freshman year, betting on pieces of every day life to make it seem a little more interesting. Five bucks says Professor Delaney sneezes during this lecture. Ten says that brown-feathered pigeon wins the fight against the gray one over that sausage they’ve plucked from the trash. The most Dean had made on a bet was over Christmas last year when the girls had been sure Sam was growing his hair out. Dean bet he’d get a haircut before the school year began again, and he’d won a hundred dollars that month. He didn’t mention to them how much John hated Sam having his hair longer, and he also didn’t tell them when he slipped that money into Sam’s coat pocket the next time he saw him.

“Y’know, when me and lovely Matilda get back from our first date, I’ll buy you all a drink with my well-earned forty bucks,” Charlie boasted.

“Matilda?” Jo and Dean asked in unison.

“Eloise? Imogen? How about Charlotte- no, I’m Charlie, that would just be weird,” Charlie laughed. 

“Super weird,” Dean agreed.

Jo checked her watch at that, before groaning and rising from her seat, slinging her bag over her shoulder. 

“As much as I’d love to stay here and listen to you two drooling over some British girl who may or may not exist,” she began, “I’ve gotta go. My mom wants me to video call her from my new apartment and give her a virtual tour.” 

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed, “Before you go, are you two coming to the welcome back party on Saturday? It’s being hosted by some seniors, but it’s open to everyone. I figured it could be a good send-off to the summer.” Jo seems to weigh this up for a moment, scrunching up her face in thought, before nodding decisively. 

“Yeah, yeah we’ll go,” she said, deciding for the both of them. Dean couldn’t argue- he was always down for a party. The three of them waved as Jo walked out the bar, and the moment she stepped out the door Charlie turned to Dean, a wicked smile on her face.

“You. Me. _Lord of the Rings_ box set.” She put on her best _you-have-to-do-this-if-you-love-me_ face, her hands coming to rest on Dean’s as she looked at him earnestly.

Dean liked to think of himself as a pretty strong-willed guy, but there was no way he could have refused that face.

**Saturday, August 28th**

**265 days left**

Dean woke up on Saturday deeply, _deeply_ regretting the moment he gave Charlie and Jo “emergency” keys to his apartment. He knew there was no fire, extreme injury, or other situation requiring his immediate attention when he heard his front door bang against the wall, and Charlie yell “ _the party has arrived!_ ”. 

“It’s too early for this shit!” Dean called from his bed, before pulling his pillow over his eyes to shield them from the sun. 

“It’s 6pm!” Charlie yelled back, “me and Jo have been texting you all day! We brought your costume!”

“Costume?!” Dean paused, sitting up from his bed, suddenly wide awake. “You didn’t say anything about a costume!”

“Oh, we must have forgot!” she tried, her classic sickly-sweet ‘lie voice’ drifting through into his bedroom.

“I hate you,” Dean groaned, falling back on his bed. He laid there for a moment, letting himself wonder why he ever let Charlie Bradbury become one of his best friends. He remembered very quickly when she entered his room and placed a coffee and a chocolate muffin on his night stand, a garment bag draped over one arm.

“This is yours,” she smiled, draping it over him like a second blanket, “you should get dressed before Jo gets here, she told me if you weren’t awake by then she’d dump the coffee on your head.

“Getting up!” Dean called and pulled himself out of bed in the wake of the threat. “So, what’s the costume?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. In the meantime, I’m gonna change in your bathroom. Eat your muffin fast, or I’ll eat it for you.” 

Dean ate his muffin still half-asleep, only gaining some sort of consciousness once he’d gulped down a third of his coffee. He smiled upon tasting the caramel syrup, an element of his coffee preferences that only Charlie and Jo knew. He’d always worried anyone else would laugh when he told them he liked the sweetness it added. He’d grown up on the cheapest instant crap his father would buy, that he’d never so much as add creamer or sugar to. Finding coffee that actually tasted good was one of the highlights of his adult life so far. He pitied Sam, who still had years of the instant sludge ahead of him. 

Once he’d drained the last of his coffee, he figured he couldn’t put off looking at the costume any longer. He picked the garment bag up from his bed, and unzipped it with a silent prayer that it wasn’t anything _too_ awful. The year before, they’d made him dress up as Cat in the Hat, while Charlie and Jo were Thing 1 and Thing 2. He had hated the hat with a passion- it was made of weirdly sturdy felt, and made his scalp itch all night. It didn’t look like he was getting off any lighter this time, either, as when Dean pulled the fabric out of the bag he quickly realised that it was a _Jesus costume_. There was a long white toga, a red sash, and even a stupid wig and fake beard.

“You’re kidding me, right?” he shouted out to Charlie, not even sure if she could hear from the bathroom.

“You’ve gotta wear it! We’re all going to match!” she called back, before adding “Jo’s buying the booze, but she won’t let you drink any if you don’t wear it.” He sighed and pulled the dumb toga over his head. He didn’t have time to find his fake ID and drive to the store and back before the party, especially not if the girls were wanting to pregame at his apartment. Pregaming was serious business to them, especially Jo- if she wasn’t feeling dizzy before they’d even left for the party, she hadn’t drunk enough.

“Well I’m not wearing the wig, that shit is gonna make my head itch all night. I don’t wanna look like I got lice at the first party of the year.”

“Okay, okay, no wig,” she relented, voice much closer now. She pushed his door open slowly, giving him chance to tell her to stop should he not be dressed. She looked at him for a second before smirking. “Your hair’s getting a little long anyway, you can almost pass for Jesus without the wig.” Dean rolled his eyes at her, before stopping to take in her costume. Her entire outfit was red- from her converse and jeans to the horns on her headband.

“You’re…”

“A devil!” she grinned, spinning around to show Dean the tail pinned to the back of her jeans. He was a little confused about how a devil matched with Jesus- he’d been half expecting her to dress as God, or maybe Joseph, with Jo as Mary, but Charlie seemed so excited about the outfit that he didn’t dare mention it. 

“You look great, Charlie,” he says instead. He knows it’s the right choice when the smile on her face only grows. 

It’s not long before Jo comes bursting through the door, arms full of illegally bought alcohol. “Okay…” she trails, “I got Jack for Dean, vodka and a carton of cranberry juice for Charlie, aaaand tequila for me.” Dean hurried over to take the drinks from her arms, placing them down on his coffee table until they’d need them. 

“Did it all go okay with the ID?” Charlie asked, picking up her vodka bottle to examine it. Since he’d known her, Charlie had always insisted on a specific brand of vodka- and this night was no exception. He’d bought her a different brand once, and she’d looked at him with puppy eyes until he exchanged it. According to her, the little gay bottles “ _just taste better_ ”. 

After getting to Dean’s apartment, Jo changed into her outfit quickly. In white shorts and a tank top, with large white wings strapped to her back, the theme suddenly became much more obvious to Dean. If he was honest, he felt a little dumb for not getting it sooner- and he was relieved that he hadn’t asked Charlie why she was a devil earlier. With their costumes perfected, and a two hour wait until people were allowed to start showing up to the senior’s house, Jo plugged her phone into Dean’s speakers, and Charlie started pouring drinks.

“Let’s get fucking wasted, sophomores!” 

They drank and talked and danced in Dean’s apartment until the hours ticked by, and it was finally time to go to the party. They talked excitedly on the way there, swapping what little information they’d learned about their other friends’ summers to make sure nobody was left out of the loop. Charlie still hadn’t seen Ash, Benny or Andrea since the end of freshman year, so she was desperate to know what she’d missed. 

“I think Benny and Andrea went to Mexico?” Jo aired, looking at Dean with uncertainty. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “he said they went hang gliding and he was convinced they were gonna fall out of the sky. I think Andrea wanted it to be an offline vacation, so they didn’t post about it online.”

“Okay, I know it’s all about the _experience_ and everything, but an offline vacation sounds super boring,” Charlie laughed, Dean joining in when Jo made a snoring noise to accentuate the point. “I mean, I think I’d go insane without something to scroll for a whole _week_.”

“If my mom could hear this conversation, she’d turn in her grave,” Jo joked, “and she’s not even dead.”

They reached the party soon after, the bass-heavy music travelling far down the street. It wasn’t the sort of thing Dean would choose to listen to, but Charlie had started dancing to it as soon as they’d gotten close enough. 

“Thos Moser!” she’d squealed, and Dean and Jo shared equally confused looks. Neither of them had any idea about Charlie’s taste in music. It was all artificial synths and computer noises and auto-tune. He could party to it, but he definitely wouldn’t play it in his car. Charlie danced her way in to the house, Jo and Dean following closely behind. She led them all the way through and into the dining room, where they found the others sitting in a triangle. In the middle of them was a red solo cup surrounded by loose playing cards in a circle. They sat between the others, filling out the triangle as they greeted everyone. Dean took in all their outfits as he looked around- Andrea was dressed as Wednesday Addams, Benny a vampire, and Ash was… Dean wasn’t sure what Ash was, but he sure had stuck a hell of a lot of Dulux colour chart strips to his shirt.

“You guys made it!” Andrea grinned, “we’ve just started playing Kings, are you joining?” Dean had only played Kings once previously, and he’d ended up drunk off his ass on Jo’s tequila with a blonde girl in his lap. It was a night he could absolutely stand to repeat.

“You know it,” he agreed immediately. Andrea took a moment to explain the rules to the rest of the group, even though they all complained that they’d played before. 

“We all take it in turns to pick a card, and therefore a number. Each number corresponds to an activity, we’ll cover those as we go. First three kings that get drawn, you pour some of your drink in the cup. Fourth king, you gotta drink the cup. That’s pretty much it, let’s go.”

“Let’s go!” the others echoed. Andrea started, taking a card from the middle and grinning when she looked at the number.

“Ten”, she said, showing it to the rest of the circle, “that’s categories. I choose… dog breeds, nice and easy. Counter clockwise, first person to mess up or repeat has to drink.”

“Labrador,” Jo said instantly.

“Dalmation,” shot Ash, like he’d been thinking about it all day.

Dean’s brain stalled for a second before he finally spat out “pomeranian”, and the others looked at him with confusion. He didn’t know why it was the first dog to come to mind either. 

_Husky_ from Benny, _Jack Russell_ from Charlie, _golden retriever_ from Andrea, and then they were back to where they started. _Think of literally any dog_ , Dean pleaded with himself, but nothing came to mind. The whiskey he’d already drunk earlier was clouding his brain, and he scrabbled to think of anything. _Dachshund_ , said Jo, _Shiba Inu_ , said Ash, and suddenly Dean was fucked. 

“I… uh…”

“Drink!” the circle cheered at once, and he sighed, unscrewing the top of his Jack and taking a swig. He felt relieved once he’d drank, the sense of dread from before gone. He didn’t know why he was so anxious about messing up- it’s a drinking game, you’re supposed to fuck up, _that’s how you get drunk_. Even still, he couldn’t help but feel his cheeks burn from the shame of failure. He decided to pretend it was from the whiskey.

It was Jo’s turn to pick a card next, and she flipped it over to show a 12 emblazoned on the card. “What’s this one again?” she asked.

“It’s question master,” Benny provided, “you get to ask a question and if anyone answers it they have to… oh.”

Jo laughed loud and boastful as Benny shrugged and drank. Dean would have been impressed with Jo’s tactic, had he not seen her use it the _last_ time they played Kings. Even so, it was pretty genius. 

Ash’s turn next. _Two_ , for _you_. Ash gets to pick someone to drink. He regarded the circle with a strange look in his eye, like he was weighing up who he thought deserved to drink the most, whether that be as a punishment or a reward. 

“The lovely Charlie,” he decided, “drink up.” Charlie bowed, before she brought her cup of vodka cran to her lips and took a large gulp. 

Then it’s Dean’s turn, and he eyed the cards, inspecting them. For a second, he almost convinced himself that he could guess what number was going to be on the other side, if he squinted hard enough. He _wanted_ to get a four- if he remembered correctly, four was whores, which meant all the girls would have to drink- and he wanted to get Andrea back for the stupid dog round. Annoyingly, as if the universe itself was directed against him, he got a six- for dicks. Ash and Benny looked at him with mild annoyance as the girls laughed, and the three guys drank. 

Benny got a five, and Ash was the last to put his thumb on the table, resulting in another drink for him. Charlie pulled a three, and had to drink herself. Then it was Andrea’s turn again, and she snagged an 11- Dean’s personal favourite. An eleven let the card picker make a new rule that everyone else had to follow for the rest of the game. Andrea thought for a few moments, and then said confidently, “everyone’s gotta put their left hand on the shoulder of the person to their left. First person to let go, you and the person whose shoulder you dropped have to drink.” It didn’t seem like too hard a rule, as long as you didn’t forget your arm had to be up. They all abode- Dean’s hand going to rest on Ash’s shoulder, and Benny’s coming to land heavily on Dean’s own. Very quickly, the challenge became apparent- it had only been a few moments and his arm was already starting to feel heavy. 

It was Jo’s turn next, and she smirked as she plucked a card from the pile. Everyone groaned as she turned it around- an Ace. Waterfall. Everyone had to start drinking at the same time, and the card picker is the only person who’s allowed to stop first. After that, you can only stop when the person to your left has stopped drinking. Looking at how they were sitting, it would be Jo stopping first, followed by Ash, then Dean, Benny, Charlie, and then lastly Andrea. Dean suddenly got very worried about Andrea- she hadn’t had to drink yet the whole game, but she was also drinking some fruity carbonated thing- the absolute _worst_ to chug. 

Jo counted down, and they all began to drink. Jo was a heavyweight, what with growing up in a bar, so by the time she stopped drinking Dean was feeling his limit approach rapidly. She stopped, and Ash dropped his drink instantly, with Dean continuing for a moment before stopping himself. Benny, however, took the opportunity to show off- he continued chugging for a good ten seconds, and Dean could see Andrea start to struggle. Charlie seemed okay for the moment, but there was only so much vodka cran one girl could chug. _Finally_ , Benny put his drink on the table, a proud grin on his face until he turned to look at Andrea. Charlie stopped quickly after Benny, and Andrea put her drink down the second she saw Charlie move. 

“I don’t feel so good,” were the first words out of Andrea’s mouth, and the last before she turned and puked in the vase between her and Jo. 

“Oh shit, Andrea I’m sorry,” Jo apologised profusely, rubbing her back with her hand as she leaned over the vase. “I forgot you were drinking that, I wouldn’t have gone for so long if-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she replied, and Dean could hear the smile in her voice even if he couldn’t see it on her face. 

“Whoever’s vase that is is gonna be pissed,” he chimed in, and he badly stifled a smile as Jo rolled her eyes at him. 

Benny quickly moved over to comfort his girlfriend, and Jo started dialling for a taxi so he could take her home. By the time it got there, Charlie had become distracted by a blue-haired girl at the other end of the room, and had convinced Jo to be her wing woman. Ash, Dean quickly realised, had disappeared completely, and so he was sitting alone with the puke vase. He stood up, decisively _not_ looking in the vase, and shook his head before he walked out the kitchen door and into the back yard. He was still only just tipsy, and if he wasn’t going to get drunk with his friends, he decided he might as well try and get stoned with strangers.

The yard at this party, as with the yard at most college parties, had been completely overtaken by smokers. The air was thicker than inside the house, and filled with the smell of weed. He’d never been a regular smoker himself, but he’d leeched other people’s weed enough times to know that it could be super awesome. He wandered down the concrete path until he found a group who seemed approachable. They were all dressed like zombie football players. He was pretty sure they were juniors, from the confident way they held themselves but the lack of last-year ‘fuck it’ energy. 

“Hey, you guys having a good time? Someone just threw up in a vase inside, so I’m coming out here to escape.” It wasn’t technically a lie. They all turned to him with squinting eyes and smiles on their faces. 

“Yeah dude, we’re having a great time!” the one holding the joint said, “you want a toke?” 

“Oh man, if you’re sure,” Dean said, pretending to be surprised and humble before accepting the joint from the guy’s outstretched hand. 

“You a junior?” one of the other guys in the circle asked as Dean took his first puff. There was no crutch, so the end was kind of damp from where the others had been smoking it- which Dean thought was gross. It was definitely not the context he wanted someone else's spit in his mouth. 

“A sophomore,” he corrected, and instantly the other guys in the circle began to coo, as if he’d just announced that he was actually fresh from elementary school. He rolled his eyes and laughed along, pretending it didn’t bother him. Dean had never liked being patronised. He’d spent his entire childhood with more responsibility than he should have, which had always led him to grow surly when others doubted his maturity. 

He could hear a different kind of music emanating from the bottom of the garden, around the end of the house. He smoked the juniors’ joint until he was supposed to pass, and made his excuses to leave the circle. He wanted to get high, but he couldn’t bear to be treated like a little kid while he did it. He walked further down the path, towards where the music was coming from, expecting to see yet another group that he could try his chances with. To his surprise, the only person down there was a brown-haired guy, leaning against a wall and smoking on his own, Bluetooth speaker at his feet. True to the costume theme, he was dressed in armour and chain mail with a fake sword at his side, like Leonardo DiCaprio in _Romeo + Juliet_. His dark brown hair was pushed back in just the right way, and his soft face and blue eyes caught his attention immediately. Dean’s stomach flipped at the sight, and he took a deep breath to try and quieten the young teenage emotions this stranger was bringing to the surface.

“What are you listening to?” Dean asked, the music being the only topic of conversation he could think of to worm his way into this guy’s favour. If he was honest, it was awful- some cheesy girl band that he didn’t recognise. 

“Girls Aloud, Sound of The Underground,” he answered, “not that you care about that. You’re here for this.” He held up one hand at that, showing Dean the joint that, judging by the length, he’d only just lit. 

“Yeah, sorry, it was a cheap shot. I’ll just go.”

“I didn’t say that,” he laughed, extending his hand out. “I don’t mind sharing. Prefer it, actually. Always used to share my joints back home.” Dean accepted the joint from him. He noticed that this one _did_ have a crutch, which he was thankful for. There’s only so much strangers’ saliva he was willing to have in his mouth in one day. Dean brought the joint to his mouth and inhaled, before feeling a burn in his throat and choking, coughing out half the smoke he just inhaled.

“Dude, I thought you said it was a joint.” 

“It… is?” the stranger countered, visibly confused.

“There’s tobacco in it.” Dean said, and eyed the ‘joint’ with suspicion. He could smoke a spliff easily, but he’d much prefer to know about it first. He took another toke just to make sure.

“Oh. That’s how they’re rolled in England.” Dean looked at the guy with one eyebrow raised. Was he for real?

“And you’re… an England enthusiast, or something?”

“Ah,” the stranger laughed, “I forget that people can’t tell. I’m from England.” If Dean wasn’t looking at the guy weirdly before, he definitely was after that. As far as Dean could hear, the guy in front of him was definitely not British. “My parents are both American, and we went on holidays here constantly, especially while I was young, so I have this awful American accent. But I was born in Nottingham, and I grew up in Manchester.” 

“Oh... _you’re_ the British exchange student. Right, that’s cool, I guess.” With annoyance, he remembered that this meant he now owed Jo twenty bucks. “So you sound like that back over the pond too…?” Dean took one last inhale before he passed the spliff back to the guy. He’d never really smoked cigarettes before, but he had to admit that the tobacco added something good to the smoke. It burnt a little more, but in a good way. And it hadn’t gone out the whole time they’d been talking, which he’d never seen before with a joint.

“I do. I assure you, if I could switch the accent off I would. My name is Castiel, by the way.”

“I’m Dean.” 

They passed the joint back and forth for a few minutes, letting a song Dean vaguely recognized play all the way through before either one spoke up again. “What band is this? This song?” 

“Scouting for Girls, I’m pretty sure.” 

“Never heard of them,” Dean said, and he wasn’t even lying. 

“They’re incredibly famous back home. Although, I feel even if they were well-known here, you wouldn’t know much about them. I suspect you’re more of a… classic rock, electric guitar kind of guy? Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, that about right?” 

“Right on the nose. How’d you know?” Dean asked, and his heart lept in to his throat when Castiel reached out his spare hand, the one not holding the spliff, and grabbed hold of the collar of his leather jacket. 

“A lucky guess,” he mused, moving closer to Dean and not letting go. He passed the spliff over, and their hands grazed slowly as he did so. _Holy shit,_ Dean thought, _this guy is actually flirting with me. He’s in to me._ Dean’s head whipped around to check the rest of the yard for any stragglers- they were completely alone, anyone else who may be outside too far away to see around the corner they were hidden behind. Once he’d checked they were alone, Dean’s mind said _fuck it_ , and he leaned in to Castiel’s advances. 

“Well, you must be a pretty lucky guy. Getting luckier, I think,” Dean replied, before taking another toke while Castiel hummed. They finished the small remainder of the joint that way, close together and sending flirtatious quips back and forth. Everything had started to slow in that familiar way, like moving through mud, his body on autopilot as his mind zoned out. 

Castiel finished the joint, the burn from the closely burning tobacco too much for Dean’s inexperienced throat, and he quickly cornered Dean against the wall. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, a hand coming to rest on Dean’s side, over the stupid Jesus toga he’d forgotten he was wearing. 

“More than okay,” Dean breathed, snaking an arm of his own around Castiel’s waist, the chain mail cold under his hand. Castiel’s face inched closer to his, everything going both too slowly and so quickly all at once, and soon they were kissing, pressed together against the wall, Castiel’s hand gripping at Dean’s side as their lips moved together. 

They were there for hours and mere seconds simultaneously. He’d never kissed anybody while stoned before, but it was quickly becoming his favourite experience. Dean had no idea whether it was the weed, or if Castiel was just a really good kisser, but he could feel every nerve in his body set alight as Castiel deepened the kiss, his tongue pressing in to Dean’s mouth as he crowded him further into the wall. Dean felt like he was quickly turning to liquid, his limbs loose as he gripped on to Castiel’s side, a hand going in to his hair as he kissed back. His feet shifted a little and he leaned all his weight against the wall. He felt Castiel’s thigh slide between his own, and Dean let out a groan as Castiel moved down and began kissing at his neck. Heaven, he was in fucking heaven. Forget Jo, this man sucking against his collarbone should have been the angel. He was just about to speak the magic words, _“do you want to get out of here?”_ , when a night-ruining sound travelled down the garden.

“Dean!? Are you out here?” It was Jo. He pulled away from Castiel slightly, thudding his head on the wall behind him as he realised there was no way he was going to be able to get out of this. He moved away from Castiel quickly, shifting his jeans under the toga, and making sure the fabric sat in an inconspicuous way. He really didn’t need to look like he’d just been pushed up against a wall when Jo saw him. Castiel seemed to take the hint, sitting on the floor next to his speaker and taking out his phone, as if they’d simply been having a calm conversation this entire time.

“Another time,” Dean said as he shot him a sorry smirk, before walking back around the corner. Making himself known, he shouted back to his friends “here, I’m here.” Jo grabbed his hand and dragged him back through the house. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the yard for, but there were less people remaining, and everyone was much drunker than they had been before. The girls led him back out the front of the house, and the three began their walk back to Charlie’s apartment.

“Where did you get to?” Jo asked, looking at him with a furrowed brow. 

“A greenhouse, judging by the smell,” Charlie joked, and rolled her eyes when she saw the disappointment on his face. “C’mon Shaggy, let’s get you home.” He wasn’t going to tell her the real reason for his dismay. He wasn’t sure he ever would.

**Monday, August 30th**

**263 days left**

The first day of lectures dragged by. Dean really did _try_ to listen to his professor drone on about _Fight Club’_ s cinematographic style and the connotations that it held, but any time he stopped focusing on paying attention, he found his thoughts drifting back to the guy from the party on Saturday, and then all of his concentration would go out the window. He resolved to not think about it, but when his brain wasn’t allowed to remember the way the wall had scraped against his back and Castiel’s thigh had worked its way between his own, he started to drift off. He lost at least twenty minutes of the lecture to sleep alone, with Charlie nudging him every time she noticed him dozing. 

Finally, _finally_ , the lecture ended. Dean thanked whatever God might be out there, because he was sure that had he been forced to sit through another minute of a cinematography lecture, he would have gone insane. The students filed out quickly, with only Charlie holding Dean up- she’d dropped her pencil case at some point, and hadn’t bothered to fish it out from under the chair in front until that moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched as a guy walked from the seats behind them, skipping quickly down the stairs. He missed a step, stumbled, and fell on to his ass in the middle of the lecture theatre. 

“Dude, you okay?” Dean laughed, a sound that caught in his throat when the guy turned around, and he saw his face- _Castiel_. 

“That looked like it hurt,” Charlie provided, finally having retrieved her pencil case just in time to watch Castiel’s descent. 

“It did.” Castiel agreed, “which is quite embarrassing.” 

“Nonsense, I’ve made a fool of myself on these stairs loads of times. One time, my shoelace got caught in a loose bit of metal, and it tore clean off! I had to do the rest of my day with one shoe lace-less!” Dean remembered the day well- Charlie had spent a good half an hour trying to convince him to sacrifice his own shoelace for her sake. He, of course, had refused. “I know what will make you feel better. Me and my buddy were gonna go for coffee, you should come with! And keep in mind I do not take no for an answer.”

“In that case,” Castiel said, eyes flicking from Charlie on to Dean, “I’d be delighted to join you.”

The Buzz was directly opposite the building their lecture was in, so Dean didn’t need to suffer through much of Charlie making small talk with Castiel, who would always reply eagerly, before he could bury his head in a cup of coffee. They took their usual spot, a four-person table next to one of the large windows. They’d been sat down only seconds when Charlie decided to make this situation even worse for Dean.

“Know yours,” she said, pointing to Dean, “mocha,” she pointed to herself, “and for you…” she pointed to Castiel at this, who scratched his jaw lightly. He’d grown some stubble since the party, where he’d been clean-shaven. 

“Cappuccino with sugar,” Castiel smiled. He tried to pull money from his pocket, but Charlie shook her head, walking away before he could give her any.

“Look,” Dean said the minute she was out of ear shot, “she doesn’t know. About me. You can’t-”

“I wasn’t going to,” Castiel assured, “I have no reason to tell your friend what happened at the party, even if I am rather disappointed it was cut short.” Dean could feel his cheeks heat up at that, which gained a smirk from Castiel. 

“I’m serious,” Dean said, unable to suppress the smile that was playing on his own lips. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be subtle.”

‘Subtle’ took its form in Castiel all but ignoring Dean, which really, he wasn’t sure he preferred. Castiel acted as if he had only met Dean those twenty minutes ago, and it drove Dean crazy. He didn’t _want_ Castiel to acknowledge what had happened on Saturday, he’d specifically asked him _not_ to, but now that he knew they were pretending it didn’t happen at all, all Dean wanted was some semblance of acknowledgement. His head was all kinds of messed up. 

He’d mostly tuned out Castiel and Charlie’s conversation, only chiming in when Charlie prompted him to. The one piece of conversation that did catch his attention was Castiel explaining to Charlie that he was actually English. “… grew up in Manchester.”

“Ohh!” Charlie said, “you know what, I totally hear it! Dean, Castiel is the exchange student!”

“Huh?” Dean said, looking up suddenly from the rim of his coffee cup, which had already been drained of its caramel coffee. “Cool.” He didn’t want to look at Castiel for too long- every time he did, he felt his cheeks heat up and his heart rate quicken. 

“Ugh, now we owe our friend Jo twenty bucks each. Dean thought you’d be a hot chick, I thought you’d be a hot _lesbian_. Jo said you’d be a dude.”

“You know, that’s interesting,” Castiel said, nodding. Dean could feel his eyes on him. 

“If it’s okay, I’m kinda disappointed that you’re not a hot lesbian.”

“That’s okay,” Castiel laughed, “I kind of am too.”

**Tuesday, August 31st**

**262 days left**

**Friend Request:** Castiel Novak

 **(2) New Messages:** Castiel Novak

 **Castiel:** Hello Dean

 **Castiel:** It’s Castiel. From the party. And the falling over.

 **Dean:** I remember ;) how’d u find my profile?

 **Castiel:** I searched ‘Dean’s at University of Kansas. Did you know there are only four of you?

 **Dean:** I had no idea. is that what u messaged me to tell me? because if so i gotta say, i think your flirting skills are a little lacking.

 **Castiel:** LOL :)

 **Dean:** …

 **Castiel:** ?

 **Dean:** nvm. good thing ur hot.

 **Castiel:** I’ll take that as a compliment.

**Thursday, September 2nd**

**260 days left**

Ever since Saturday, it had been impossible for Dean to focus on anything. First he couldn’t stop thinking about Castiel during his classes, and now here he was, sitting in Ash’s garage during band practice, hand glued to his phone even more than normal. He knew he needed to put it away and stop holding the rest of the band back so that they could run through more songs, but he couldn’t stop looking back at Castiel’s last texts.

 **Castiel:** I had a graze on my hand from pushing you against the wall, by the way.

 **Castiel:** It’s almost fully healed now, which just won’t do. You’ll have to help me make a new one.

 **Dean:** ur going to kill me

Dean could sense Benny’s eyes on him from across the room. He knew he’d been zoned out for a couple of minutes, taking the opportunity while Jo tuned her bass up half a step to check his phone, but he’d hoped he hadn’t been so obvious. 

“Who you talking to Dean?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. Dean could tell it was supposed to be friendly. “You got a girl we should know about?”

“No, sorry,” he brushed it off, “just a meme, but actually it wasn’t even that funny the more I think about it. Just kinda dumb, it doesn’t matter.”

“Ooookay…” Benny said, turning back around to talk to Ash while they waited for Jo to finish. In his head, Dean yelled at himself for making that situation so much more awkward than it had to be. _Just act like a normal human being for once, goddammit._

**Saturday, September 4th**

**258 days left**

It had been a week since the party, and Dean was still going crazy. He and Castiel had continued texting back and forth, a couple of texts each day, but they still hadn’t seen each other since that time in the Buzz. The more days that passed, the more anxious excitement built up inside of Dean. He had no idea when he was going to see Castiel again, and at that, no idea when they’d next be alone together. And now that they were no longer strangers, were the rules still the same? Would they simply be able to pick up where they left off, or would there be other hurdles to overcome? The uncertainties bubbled in his stomach each time he thought about the man. 

It all came to a head when Jo decided that one week since their last party was too long, and so she invited everyone round to her apartment. It was to be a much smaller affair than the previous Saturday, and Andrea had made them all swear that there would be no drinking games, _especially_ not Kings. The plan was to just sit around, listen to some music, and slowly get wasted together. 

Dean couldn’t decide if the night’s plans got better or worse when Charlie informed him that she’d invited “the clumsy guy from our class”. On one hand, he was going to be able to spend a night with Castiel and alcohol again. On the other… all of his friends were going to be there, inescapable. Unless he wanted a very spontaneous coming out party, there was no way he was going to be able to fool around with Castiel that night. 

He got to Jo’s apartment three minutes after she’d told everyone to, knowing he’d be the earliest one there. 

“Hey, Dean,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. The bottles in his backpack clinked as he moved, and the two of them laughed at the sound. “Stick them on the coffee table, it’s only the seven of us today.” For a second, he thought that she meant that Sam was here too. It was only when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he read the notification, that he remembered just who was joining them.

 **(1) New Message:** Castiel Novak

 **Castiel:** I can’t wait to see you later. Does Jo’s flat have any dark, secluded corners, or will we be tortured the entire evening?

“Who’s that?” Jo asked, and Dean reflexively pulled his phone away from her view. 

“Just Charlie,” he lied, “she found a limited edition Star Trek box set on eBay and uh, wants to know if I’ll go Dutch on it.”

“Oh,” Jo said, pretending to be interested. She didn’t mean anything bad by it, Jo just truly couldn’t care less about the nerdy shit that Charlie and Dean liked. There was a reason she wasn’t a Film major too. Dean was thankful for the out, and walked over to settle onto Jo’s couch for the night. One of the main reasons he always got to her apartment early, alongside wanting to see his best friend, was for the prime real estate. If he arrived after Ash or Benny and Andrea, they’d undoubtedly take his seat before he even had the chance to fight for it. Finally settled, he messaged Castiel back.

 **Dean:** no dark corners, sorry. gonna have to keep it in your pants for now.

Once the message had sent, Dean made his next task taking his drinks from his bag. While he was unpacking his shit, Benny and Andrea turned up, soon followed by Ash.

“Andrea!” Dean called, “how are you after last week? That was brutal.”

“I’m all good now,” she smiled, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. “The carbonation messed with my stomach, is all. Turns out it’s not a good idea to chug so much soda, even if it is alcoholic.” It’s exactly what Dean had assumed, but he was glad to know that it was in fact just the carbonation, and that Andrea hadn’t actually drunk so much alcohol she’d puked. Dean had only been there once, and it wasn’t an experience he would wish on anyone. 

Charlie and Castiel were the last to arrive, Castiel peering into the room awkwardly as Charlie introduced him to everyone.

“This is Castiel,” she announced, arms outstretched to gesture towards him, “he’s the British exchange student I told you all about!” 

“Hello,” Castiel greeted, one arm coming up in a sort-of wave. Seeing Castiel interact with a group of new people, sober, was a strange experience. When Dean had been close to drunk, and Castiel had been at least one spliff down already, he’d had a confidence that didn’t seem to be present now- the same one he still had through texts. It was endearing, if anything, seeing him unsure how to handle himself while meeting Dean and Charlie’s friends. If Dean’s heart rate picked up or his lungs felt like they were going to burst while watching him, then Dean would be the last to mention it. 

“He doesn’t sound very British,” Ash pointed out, and Dean stifled a laugh as Castiel rolled his eyes. Charlie started the whole diatribe about Castiel’s parents, while the man himself began to look for a seat. Ash had taken the other side of the sofa, and so Castiel took what was, of course, the natural option- sitting on the arm of the sofa beside Dean, his arm strewn across the back. Soon, the drinks began to flow, the music was turned up, and the seven of them got into the swing of the night. Despite Andrea’s requests for no drinking games, somebody suggested they play Truth or Dare, and Dean was never one to turn down a game. They all turned in their seats to form a circle, just like the one they’d been in the week before, only this time with an extra member joining them. 

They decided to go clockwise, this time, starting with Ash for no reason other than him calling dibs. Castiel was still sitting on the arm of the sofa, and by this point Dean’s shoulder down to his elbow was pressed up against Castiel’s side. He couldn’t stop thinking about it for a second. They were so close that he could hear each of Castiel’s individual breaths. Almost as close as they had been just one week ago, in that senior’s back yard…

“Hmm…” Ash thought, looking around the circle for a moment, before deciding on, “Jo. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Jo said without thought. In all the years he had known her, Dean had never seen Jo choose truth. 

“I dare you to… take a swig of everyone’s drinks.”

A look came across Jo’s face as if to say _‘you’re kidding? That’s easy!’_ , but she did the task regardless, taking gulps of Charlie’s vodka cranberry, Benny and Andrea’s gin, then Ash’s PBR, Dean’s whiskey, and finally Castiel’s screwdriver. After the last gulp, she took a bow. “You doubt my talents,” she laughed.

Next is Benny’s turn, and he turns with a smirk to Andrea. “Honey, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she takes, and Benny tuts with disappointment, before pausing to think.

“What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?”

Andrea squirms and cringes her way through a story of peeing herself in the Mexican airport this past summer, and the group laugh along to her pain. _If that was the quality of the vacation,_ Dean thought, _it was probably for the best that they didn’t put any of it on social media._ While she was telling her story, Castiel’s hand slid ever so slowly from the back of the sofa, his fingertips coming to rest at the nape of Dean’s neck, right on his hairline. His fingers were cool, and Dean had to force himself not to shiver at the touch. Castiel was driving him insane on purpose, like his own private game of chicken that Dean didn’t get any warning for. He didn’t want anybody to catch them, but at the same time, he didn’t want it to end. He’d only had the ghost-touch of Castiel’s fingertips on his neck for mere moments, but if he lost them Dean wasn’t sure he’d be able to get through the rest of the night.

Andrea’s story ended, and then it was her own turn to choose a victim. Her gaze turned to Dean, and he felt like a deer in the headlights. He knew she couldn’t see where Castiel’s hand was, but it felt like he'd been caught out regardless. 

“Deany boy,” she cooed, “truth or dare?”

“U-uhm, truth,” he decided, not wanting to risk a dare in case it entailed him moving from his seat. 

“Truth it is. Out of the band, who would you… make out with?” At once, Benny and Ash sat up straighter in their seats, while Jo’s face scrunched up in disgust. Dean could practically hear Castiel’s ears pricking up. 

“Process of elimination,” he decided quickly. “Can’t be Jo, she’s basically my sister,” Jo looked relieved to have been discarded. “Benny, sorry man, you’re just too butch for me.” Benny mocked offense before chuckling, and Ash looked to Dean with a strange confusion in his eyes. “Ash, no offence dude but when was the last time you washed that shirt? Gotta be… myself.” Dean smirked, having successfully ‘outsmarted’ the game. The others, except Castiel, groaned in annoyance.

“That’s not a real answer,” Jo accused

“It so is!”

“How would you even- never mind, I don’t want you to answer that question,” Jo dismissed. “Charlie, it’s your turn.”

“You’re in a band?” came Castiel’s voice, a low murmur directly into his ear as they watched Charlie scratch her head and pretend she wasn’t about to dare Ash to hang out the window and sing _Sweet Home Alabama_ at the top of his lungs. It had become a staple of their nights in, and yet every time she would pretend it was something she had only just thought up. 

“Yeah,” Dean grinned, looking up at Castiel, and _holy hell_ Dean was not expecting their faces to be so close together, “I’m lead guitar, and vocals.” And also, if he didn’t look away soon, getting hypnotised by Castiel’s deep blue eyes. 

Dean’s head jerked away when he heard the first few words of _Sweet Home Alabama_ , deeply out of tune and barely even timed right. Despite the discordant lead vocalist, the others quickly joined in- and even Castiel’s voice joined the din on the chorus, which Dean suspected to be the only part he knew. 

On Jo’s turn, she dared Benny to post an underwear selfie on his Instagram- a challenge he took in his stride, and he even forced the rest of them to like the photo once he had posted it. 

That brought them to the person who’s turn filled him with the most anxiety- Castiel. He hadn’t moved from beside Dean, and his fingertips were now tracing light shapes on the back of his neck, fingers winding lightly in the back of his hair. Every movement was so small, so slight as to not draw attention, but it had Dean biting his lip in an effort not to squirm. Castiel’s hands were still so cool on his skin.

The obvious target for Castiel’s turn was Charlie- she was the only person playing, apart from Castiel, who hadn’t yet completed a challenge. He ignored this though, turning instead to Dean.

“Dean.” Castiel said, definitively, “truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Dean gulped out, his mind instantly descending into an endless chant of _dare me to kiss you dare me to kiss you dare me to kiss you, I’ll do it just dare me to kiss you._ Instead, Castiel’s eyes flicked over to the other end of Jo’s living room, to her old and battered guitar leaning against the far wall. 

“I dare you to play us a song.” 

Everyone went quiet at that. It was an odd request, and definitely not one that belonged in the middle of an otherwise chaotic game of truth or dare. Regardless, Castiel was their guest, and somebody they were all trying to befriend- it was only polite to cater to his request. And how could Dean possibly say no, when those eyes were watching his face so closely, those fingertips still tracing circles on his neck?

“Okay,” he laughed, the anxiety audible at least to himself, “one song coming up.” He got up off the sofa, regretting it bitterly as he left Castiel behind, and grabbed Jo’s old guitar. “This thing’s been beaten to within an inch of its life, so if it sounds sucky, don’t blame it on me,” Dean joked. Standing at the head of the room, he adjusted the tuning for a second, tested the notes, and then began to play the first song that came to his mind.

_So, so you think you can tell_

_Heaven from Hell? Blue skies from pain?_

_Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?_

_A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell?_

_Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?_

_Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze?_

_Cold comfort for change? Did you exchange_

_A walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?_

He hadn’t played the song in years, but the notes and the lyrics came to him like a second language. He didn’t even need to think about it, working on muscle memory alone to pull the music from nothing. As he played, Castiel watched him intently, eyes flickering between his fingers on the fretboard and his mouth singing the lyrics. As he reached the chorus, Jo began to sing with him, and the two finished the song together. 

_How I wish, how I wish you were here_

_We're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl year after year_

_Running over the same old ground, what have we found?_

_The same old fears, wish you were here_

As he finished the guitar part of the song, the others clapped and whooped. Truth or Dare forgotten, they began to prompt Dean to play songs they all knew all the words to- they went through a whole show of _Teenage Dirtbag_ , _Mr Brightside_ , _Kiss Me_ , and _Before He Cheats_ before the rest of them were cheering, drunk off their faces on either alcohol or excitement, screaming the lyrics to _Iris_ by the Goo Goo Dolls as Dean played. Even Castiel knew the words to almost every song, only faltering on the Carrie Underwood classic, which Dean supposed was fair. They probably don’t listen to much country in Britain. 

By the time his fingers had grown tired from playing, and Jo and Charlie were half asleep on each other, slumped in Jo’s yellow bean bag, all the music had sobered Dean up considerably. He hadn’t had the chance to drink much alcohol in the first place, and concentrating on playing had pushed the rest out of his system.

“Okay, everyone,” Jo mumbled from her place on the bean bag, “everybody out. I wanna fall asleep in an empty apartment in ten, go go go.” She was squinting from how tired she was, and Charlie moved to help her up from the bean bag, moving her towards her bedroom.

“Castiel,” Charlie called back, “I’m gonna stay here tonight, to look after Jo. Will you be able to get home okay?”

“I’m sure Dean can give me a lift,” he replied instantly, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Y-yeah, no problem man. I’m good to drive.” Castiel smirked over at him, and Dean had to bite on his lip once again to stop himself from making an ungodly noise. Dean grabbed his backpack, stuffed his barely-touched drinks back into it, and threw it over one shoulder. 

They left Jo’s apartment quickly, the both of them shooting “bye!”s over their shoulders at the others as they headed out the door. The moment the front door was closed and they were out in the hall, Dean fell against the wall, looking Castiel dead in the eyes and feeling those ever-present nerves once more.

“Man, you are killing me here. You’re turning me into some kinda nervous wreck, I can’t-”

“I have more weed in my apartment,” Castiel states with a smirk, “if you think that would make you feel any better.”

Getting the hint, Dean gulped, nodded, and said “yeah, yeah that would be great.”

They walked to Dean’s car in silence, which Castiel broke once he realised which vehicle they were approaching.

“This is yours?” he asked, disbelief in his voice.

“Yup, she’s my baby,” Dean confirmed, patting the exterior of the Impala for extra emphasis. He was proud of his car, and he was not afraid to show it. 

“God, nobody’s got anything like this back home,” Castiel sighed, running his palm along the outside of the car. “Everyone’s just got the cheapest Fiat or old Ford Fiesta. This is…”

“A beauty. She was my dad’s, but a lot of stuff happened and, well… she ended up with me, and I’ve been taking good care of her ever since.” Dean didn’t want to go into detail about his shitty home life while he was trying to get laid, so he dismissed the entire topic of conversation with a quick, “hop in, it’s getting cold out.”

They both got in the car, and Dean started the engine quickly. It may have been September, but the night was still cold as a bitch, and the leather seats were freezing. The faster they reached Castiel’s apartment, the better. 

“So where am I going?” Dean asked, and before he had even finished the question, Castiel had held up his phone, with the GPS app loaded up and ready to go. Dean pressed play on the cassette player, and Deep Purple came roaring through the old speakers as he began to drive.

Castiel only lived a couple of streets away, so it was a short enough drive for them not to be uncomfortable sitting in silence. By the time they were parked up outside, the second song on the cassette had only just started to play before it was stopped abruptly.

They got out of the car silently, and Dean could feel himself shake with nerves and excitement. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to vibrate out of his skin before he’d even managed to get his clothes off. Castiel started striding towards the building, and Dean trailed behind him blindly. 

They reached the front door quickly, Castiel’s apartment only on the second floor. He unlocked and opened the door efficiently, and before Dean knew it he was inside Castiel’s apartment, strong hands gripping his sides and pushing him in to the wall. Castiel kicked the door shut behind them, before diving in to kiss Dean like he’d been dying to for millennia. He was forceful and strong, one hand coming up to slide through the back of Dean’s hair, tugging lightly and dragging a moan out of Dean’s mouth.

“Been thinking about this all day,” Castiel sighed between kisses, “no, fuck- all week. Ever since the second you left the back garden.” One of Dean’s hands came up to slide around Castiel’s waist, pulling their lower halves closer together. “The thought of you has been driving me insane.”

“Right back at you,” Dean gasped as Castiel moved down, pressing kisses to his jaw, and then his neck, slowly moving south. He paused right above Dean’s collarbone, leaving biting kisses there, and Dean felt the familiar sting of a hickey forming as Castiel began to suck a mark in to the skin. Dean had gotten hickeys before, countless times since age fifteen, but none of them had ever felt quite like this. Every inch of his body tingled as Castiel’s skin touched his, the hand that had been gripping his side moving to slide under his shirt, ghosting over his stomach. Castiel’s strong hand moved further up his shirt, before his thumb finally stroked over Dean’s nipple.

“Castiel-” Dean sighed, “Casti- _Cas_ ” the pet name comes out without Dean even thinking about it, but it feels so much warmer on his tongue. It feels _right_. 

“Say it again,” Castiel said, nipping further up at Dean’s jaw as his thumb continued working over Dean’s nipple.

“ _Cas._ ” At the second pant of his newfound nickname, Castiel began to steer Dean backwards through his apartment, to what Dean assumed was the bedroom. Dean kissed Castiel’s neck in turn, walking backwards blindly as he did so. He trusted Castiel. Soon enough, the backs of his calves hit a soft surface, and Castiel guided him down on to the bed, and caught his mouth in a kiss on the way. Dean let Castiel have control the entire time, gave it up willingly to the man hovering over him with lust in his eyes, and he did not regret it for a moment. He laid back as Castiel took him apart with every touch, every kiss to his shoulder or thigh or mouth serving to cloud Dean’s mind further. It was different to the guys he’d been with before- boys in high school who had been just as curious as him, and just as clueless. This was purposeful, each movement done with the intention of making the both of them feel good. When Castiel had taken him in his hand, reduced him to nothing more than a shaking mess on the bed, the only thought in Dean’s mind was the sound of the other man’s name- _Cas, Cas, Cas,_ over and over on an endless loop. And when he was spent, and he returned the favour, he knew exactly how much pleasure he was giving Castiel, felt the pride that came with making another man come while he yelled Dean’s name. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and he thought he may die if he could never capture it again.

They’d been lying in each other’s arms in Castiel’s bed for at least twenty minutes when Castiel mumbled something and sat up.

“Whassup, Cas?” Dean asked, using the pet name out of habit now, from their previous activities. You couldn’t moan a nickname that many times without it sticking. He’d thought it would sound foreign and strange on his tongue outside of sex, but it didn’t- he actually quite liked it.

“You still want that joint? Because if so, I’m going to have to get up to roll it.” Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist at that.

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, telekinesis it?” 

“Unfortunately, mind powers are the one thing the British Empire hasn’t managed to master yet,” Castiel laughed, and Dean finally relented, moving his arms and letting him up. Dean enjoyed the view as Castiel walked to the other side of his bedroom naked, opened a large jewellery box, and collected the things he needed from inside of it. He got back under the covers after that, before he reached down beside his bed and pulled up a cherry wood rolling tray, putting the other items on top of it. Dean sat up too, resting his chin on Castiel’s shoulder to watch him.

“Never seen anyone do this before,” he mumbled, “kinda forgot it was part of the process.” He looked at the things Castiel had collected from the other side of the room- a baggie of weed, of course, a tobacco pouch, and a small round green tin that he wasn’t sure of the purpose of. It had a little Union Jack carved in the top, which made Dean laugh. 

“Well,” Castiel started to explain, doing each action as he spoke about them, “first you put how much weed you want in the grinder.” He opened the little green tin as he said this, and Dean could see all the spokes inside that must be used to tear up the weed. True to his word, Castiel placed weed between the spokes, before closing the lid again. “Then you hold the grinder in two hands, and twist your hands in opposite directions to grind the weed,” he explained, twisting his hands as he talked. He handed the grinder over to Dean, and Dean did his best to mimic the action Castiel had just done. 

Next was the crutch, or as Castiel called it, the ‘roach’. He ripped a slip of cardboard from his packet of papers and made an Z shape with it, before rolling the rest of the cardboard around the Z in a circle. He took a paper from the packet, set it on the tray, and put the roach at one end. He took the grinder back from Dean, unscrewed the bottom compartment, and poured the ground-up weed onto the paper. He dipped his hand into the tobacco pouch last, pulling out a small amount and sprinkling it over the weed. Finally, he licked both thumbs, and rubbed his index fingers and his thumbs together, like how old people turn book pages. He picked the unrolled spliff up, placed it between his thumbs and his index fingers, and rolled it up and down until the whole joint became conical. Dean was watching intently, but he still wasn’t sure when exactly it went from loose paper and bud to a perfectly rolled spliff.

“Never in a million years am I gonna be able to learn how to do that,” Dean sighed, and Castiel laughed.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it for you.” He pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips, before leaning back and searching for a lighter. Something twisted in Dean’s gut at that, a years-old shame he couldn’t quite place or define. Something that told him he didn’t deserve to be known, or to be happy. He couldn’t stop himself from ruining it.

“I mean… this is just a one-time thing though, right? Sorry, I probably should have clarified that… before.” 

Something like disappointment flickered over Castiel’s face, just for a second, before his expression reverted to a dull smile. One that wasn’t wholly genuine.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Castiel agreed. “I just meant like, as friends. If that’s something you want.” He lit the spliff at that, not waiting for Dean’s response. 

“Friends would be good.” Dean hoped the apologetic tone in his voice conveyed well. 

They smoked the spliff together peacefully, laying back down together in Castiel’s bed. Dean tried to forget how he’d rebuffed Castiel, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind. It was only when they were both stoned, and he slowly drifted off to sleep in Cas’s arms, that his mind began to rest.

**Monday, September 6th**

**256 days left**

“You’re looking perky today,” was the first thing Jo said to Dean when she saw him. He hadn’t thought he’d been wearing his heart on his sleeve so much, but evidently he’d hidden his happiness so badly that she could spot it a mile off. She had been waiting with Charlie for him outside the Buzz, their usual meeting place. They’d planned to get coffee there, but it was only when Jo and Charlie had arrived that they remembered it was Labor Day, and therefore the coffee shop was closed. 

“What’s the plan then?” he asked, ignoring Jo’s statement and turning to Charlie instead.

“I looked online, the only place open within walking distance is the Starbucks.” Dean looked over to Jo at this, and was unsurprised to see the sour look on her face. Jo hated Starbucks, on principle alone. He was beginning to suspect that Jo simply didn’t like any food or drink produced by a chain store. Dean and Charlie began to walk in the direction of the Starbucks, and Jo sighed heavily before following along. 

“So if I’ve gotta go to Starbucks, are you gonna tell me what’s got you all sunshines and rainbows this morning?” Jo asked, more direct in her approach this time. Dean deliberately dropped the smile he hadn’t realised he was wearing. 

“Well if you _gotta_ know, I got laid last night,” he stated proudly. He shifted the date around to make it more inconspicuous, but as far as Dean was concerned, that didn’t make it a lie.

“Oh my God, who?” Jo asked as she turned to him with a much deeper interest in her eyes. As aloof as Jo tried to play herself, she had always been a sucker for gossip. Dean simply shook his head.

“I mean, you have to tell us who she is,” Charlie furthered, flashing her pleading eyes at Dean once more. Luckily, he was building up an immunity to them. 

“I’m sorry, girls, I don’t kiss and tell,” he laughed, holding both hands in the air, palms open. 

“You realise you already did that, right? The telling part.” 

“Shut up, you’re just jealous I got a head start on this year’s body count.”

They both rolled their eyes at him.

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this chapter hmu at [uncastiel.tumblr.com](http://uncastiel.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Songs in this chapter:
> 
> [Thos Moser by food house](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-rfX8inHto)  
> [Sound of the Underground by Girls Aloud](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9Wv4SCBiTE)  
> [She's So Lovely by Scouting For Girls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ABNEjPxWEg) (only named by artist, but it's the song that was on!)  
> [Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ye5BuYf8q4o)  
> [Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXdNnw99-Ic)  
> [Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FC3y9llDXuM)  
> [Mr. Brightside by The Killers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gGdGFtwCNBE)  
> [Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hII0JXUJNDo)  
> [Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaSy8yy-mr8)  
> [Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdYWuo9OFAw)


End file.
